I Don't Work at Google, How Do I Get a Maid?

Do you wish you worked at Google? The search engine behemoth provides servants to their employees, which seems like such a nice perk. Would you like to have a helper come to your house and do your laundry, run errands, cook dinner, mop floors, and walk your dogs while you're in the office getting a massage and eating gourmet organic food? Your work-life balance would be so ... balanced!

What if you don't work at Google? I work at home. Sort of like Carol Brady did on The Brady Bunch. Should I get a maid like Alice?

I'm assuming the Task Rabbit people Google uses for employee helpers probably don't want to work around pithy bloggers like me, or bring us coffee on a tray with sugar cubes on the side (do they still make those?), so maybe what we really need is a full-fledged personal maid, like Alice.

Here's what I want to know about having a maid:

How do you go about finding a maid? Not just a nice housekeeper who comes once a week to mop and clean the bathrooms, but a real, full-time maid? I called Merry Maids once when the kids were little. They came to my house to give me a bid. The first thing they said was "so, you'd pick up all these toys before we come, right? We don't pick up toys." So that didn't work out.

But, if you've got the budget, there are many executive household help agencies out there like Butler for You, which can help you find a fully screened and qualified maid or butler who seem fine with wearing uniforms. And I'm sure you could find a blue dress and white ruffled apron somewhere.

So what should the maid do? If you had a maid (and let's just say her name is Alice), what would you expect of her? Would you clean the house before she got there every morning so she won't think you're a slob and then say, "Alice, I'm so sorry to ask, but would you mind turning the oven down to 325 degrees in 10 minutes? I have to run the baby to urgent care, and I don't want the pies to burn. I'm due to volunteer at the homeless shelter at 4 o'clock, and you know how those men love their pies!"

Or would you boss her around like you're the queen of your architect-designed mid-century modern home?

"Alice," you might say with a British accent, "please tidy up the nursery. Mary Poppins left us, and the children can't remember how to snap their fingers. And I'd like my double-decaf-vanilla latte (one pump) at exactly 110' this time. 109' does NOT work for me. As we've discussed. That will be all," and then wave your hand to dismiss her. I'd have to practice the hand wave to get it just right.

Maybe I'm not cut out to have an Alice (I don't even drink lattes), but gosh, I'd sure love to have Alice around to help me deal with these teenagers of mine! I'm sure she could teach them the fine art of appreciation and respecting the hired help.